More Than A Dream
by lyricsinmotion
Summary: Killian has been so kind to help Emma and her family go to Neverland in search of Henry, but what will happen when Emma finds herself waking from an impossible dream, a dream that might change everything? Will she finally confront her feelings for the captain of the ship? ONE-SHOT inspired by the Captain Swan Saturday theme- Dreams (may extend later on...)


**I have been seriously blocked the past two weeks, and today I decided I needed to write _something _before I went insane. So I sat down and started writing, and this is what happened. Hope you like it! Inspired by the CS saturday theme- Dreams **

_I'm calling can you hear me?_

_The angels will steer me _

_To your door, feel so sure_

_The night is the brightest_

_(Calling by Leona Naess)_

* * *

Emma hadn't slept in 3 days. When they set out to find Henry, she knew it wouldn't be easy. She knew it would hurt, and her company didn't help much. She kept to herself for the most part, but she could only avoid the others for so long; especially when she shared a room with most of them. It was hardest seeing Mary Margret- she looked at her like she understood so much, like she pitied her for the pain she was enduring; the last thing Emma wanted was pity. David was clueless as to what to say, but at least that meant conversation with him didn't include a constant reminder. There was one room, however, that she avoided at all costs; one man she avoided at all costs. She was grateful for his help, sure; but she still wasn't sure she could trust him.

No. That was a lie- she did trust him. And that scared her more than anything else possibly could.

She could feel herself slipping towards him; her subconscious aching for his stupidly charming smile he only ever gave her, even his ridiculous innuendos would have been welcome. She needed a distraction, but she was petrified of the fallout of using Hook as just that. It was more than just wanting his company to help her forget though; it was the ghost of his smirk on his lips, the way he never quite met her eyes, or said more than 5 words to her the entire trip. She didn't understand why it bothered her so much, but then again not much of how he affected her made any sense.

They had left 5 days ago. The first night she hadn't slept much at all- what little sleep she did have was haunted by the thought of never seeing Henry again. She had woken up in a sweat, tears falling from her eyes. She remembered the way her parents looked at her, like she was broken. They hadn't meant to give that impression, she knew that (they just wanted her to be okay); but she still felt as if they weren't sure she'd survive if they didn't come out of this with Henry by her side. They knew she was strong; but this was another ball game entirely. She lost her son. And she didn't know if she'd ever see his smile again. That was more than growing up without a family, more than all those horrible foster care homes, more than Neal leaving her. She, herself, wasn't quite sure she'd survive if Henry didn't.

These thoughts kept her awake for 3 nights, and she was sure it would happen again. In a preemptive strike against the insomnia, she didn't even try to sleep. Instead, she skipped ahead to the part where she moved to the deck of the ship to look at the stars. It was gorgeous, she had to admit. There was a light breeze and Emma leaned against the edge of the Jolly Roger, her arms dangling over the side. "Can't sleep?" His voice shot through her like a wrecking ball, sending her off balance and leaving her breathless. He'd not spoken to her alone since before they left, and she hadn't exactly expected him to break that pattern at night, on the deck, while she was half dressed in PJ's. He was somewhere around ten feet from where she stood, his usual pirate garb abandoned in favor of a simple white shirt and tan slacks. Emma was usually very careful to not let her mind wander when it came to him, but damn if he didn't look good. There were a few buttons on the shirt, all undone (did she expect anything less) and Emma knew she was staring at the shapes of his muscles under the light clothes. It never occurred to her that he would wear something so simple to bed; the leather just seemed so…him. "Emma," he whispered. Her eyes darted up to meet his, scolding herself for starting so intently, a light blush creeping up to her cheeks. _Come _on_, Emma. Seriously? You aren't 14._

"What?" she asked, suddenly feeling entirely too exposed. Her tank top and sweat pants weren't terribly bad, but she could still see his gaze flicker to her exposed skin.

"You should try to sleep, lass." Emma warred with herself to fight the laugh that threatened to escape, but lost. He raised an eyebrow at her in question, taking a casual step towards her. "Something funny?"

"No, it's just…"Emma paused. It wasn't lost on her that this was the first time in nearly a week she'd laughed. "I _can't_ sleep."

"Well, did you try-"

"No, you don't get it. _I can't sleep_." Her eyes begged him not to ask, but at the same time she wanted to talk. She needed to talk. She was going insane keeping everything bottled up, and he was the only one she knew wouldn't judge her for it, or at least that he wouldn't look at her with the sympathy she'd seen so much of.

He nodded, slowly walking to her and leaning his forearms on the rail of the ship next to her, his eyes scanning the world around them. "I'm sorry. If I'd known they would take him…I- Emma," he turned to look up at her, sighing as he did so. "I'll help you get him back, I swear. But it's not going to be easy- you need to sleep and from the sound of footsteps the past few nights, I'd say it's been awhile." Emma stood up straighter; she thought she'd been so quiet the previous nights when she'd escaped for fresh air. He gave her a sad smile, a knowing look in his eyes. "I know what you're going through, relatively anyway. When Milah died…"he sighed, deep and sorrowful. "I didn't sleep for a long time. I couldn't- it felt like sleep betrayed her somehow. I know how much it hurts to have someone taken, love. And I'm sorry you have to go through it. You shouldn't have to, I wish you didn't." The sincerity in his voice startled Emma, enough to make her shoulders sink down and her lip quiver.

"What if he's…" She couldn't say it.

"He's not. Emma, he's not." His eyes bore into hers when he spoke, his previous perch against the rail abandoned in favor of facing her mere inches away. "Please, just…believe that. Or you'll never make it through this, lass." Emma nodded, unsure of what to say. She felt exhausted, but knew there was no way she'd sleep at all in her cot. Her muscles were sore, her eyes tired, her mind slow.

"I can't sleep, Hook. I've tried. I can't," she said; Emma didn't really mean to switch subjects, it was just what she'd been thinking about. He didn't seem to mind, though. "I'm so tired," she added uncharacteristically. The sleep deprivation really took its toll on her state of mind.

"Take my bed- it's more comfortable; perhaps it'll help." There was no suggestion in his voice, or his eyes. Emma realized he was offering his bed- without him in it. Relief flooded her; a good bed probably would help. "There's a sofa in my quarters- I'll sleep there," he said, affirming the conclusion she'd come to moments ago.

"Thank you," she mumbled, not willing to fight him on this. The two walked back down to his room in silence, Emma's heart starting to pick up pace. What was she thinking, sleeping in his bed, with him on the other side of the room? Was she crazy? She had enough trouble as is with keeping him out of her thoughts…

"Here," he said quietly, pointing to his bed. He swept off an extra quilt and laid it over the couch in one swift move. Emma, feeling the previous week's trials weighing her down, made her way to his bed without another word. She sank onto in with a small smile on her lips- it was extremely comfortable, a huge improvement from her little bed in the crew's courters. A sigh left her lips when she pulled the warm covers over her body, his smell etched across everything in here. She thought she heard him chuckle, but was soon lost in sleep. . .

* * *

"Mom!" Henry cried out, waving like a madmen, a smile wider than possible on his face. "Over here!" Emma laughed and strode through the sand to the now teenage boy, her hand firmly in _his_. The warm sun enveloped her back while the water at her feet washed the grains of white sand from her skin. Henry had built a sand castle, and wanted to show them. There was something about the beach that brought out the kid in all of them, and it brought a smile to Emma's face seeing him look so young again.

"Looks great!" she said as they neared it. _His_ hand left hers in favor of her back, his fingers slipping along the bare skin causing her to shiver. They'd been at the beach all day, and she was still in her bikini top, much to _his_ liking. She knelt down next to her kid's masterpiece and gave him a smile. "Really, how'd you make it?" she asked.

"Dad told me where to find the buckets and stuff…And I may have had some help from Sam…" he told her. Sam was a local girl Henry spent an awful lot of time with in the past week. It was adorable- Emma was confident that it was a little summer crush and nothing to worry about.

"Oh, really?" she asked, looking up to the man now biting his lip to hide his smile, his eyes glued to hers. "Well, it paid off. This is even better than Dad's was yesterday. Why don't you go get the camera so we can add it to the collection?"

"Kay," He jumped up, smirked at them, and ran towards the little beach house they'd rented for the week, an escape from the insanity that was their lives back in Storybrooke. Clearly, he'd assumed that was a cue for him to leave because his parents were about to kiss.

He wasn't wrong.

Emma stood and wrapped her arms around _him_, reaching up on the tips on her toes to place a lazy kiss on his jaw. She felt him sigh as his arms slipped around her waist, his lips finding hers for only a moment before pulling back. "Honestly, love, Henry's amazing but I do wish we had more…alone time," he mumbled against her, his lips breaking into a smirk.

Emma laughed, kissing him slowly, tugging at his lower lip gently, before replying. "Well, he's gone now, silly."

"Mmm, that he is," he said before kissing her again, this time not pulling back so quickly. Her fingers pulled at his hair at the spot she knew drove him mad, and smiled against his lips when he groaned. She felt his tongue trace her lips before they deepened the kiss, shivers shooting down her spine even after all this time. It had been three years since Emma moved to Storybrooke, nearly two years since she and Killian had been together; and almost five months since Henry began calling him Dad. (Neal was fine and all, but as time went on Henry realized Killian was a father to him in a way Neal never would be- he loved Emma, and she loved him, and together the three of them made a family.) Emma didn't know, but Killian was planning on proposing while they were there, away from the stress of their everyday life. The ring was beautiful; gorgeous green stones lit around a rose band, a light blue rock in the middle. It reminded him instantly of the sea, her eyes, and the way the water made the both of them love each other a little more. He knew she'd love it; he just had to choose the right time to get down on one knee.

The sun had begun setting when Henry returned, and the three walked over to their towels and picnic basket for dinner after snapping the picture. They ate with laughter and love as their constant companions, Killian teasing Henry about his "little girlfriend." Emma found it hard to look away from Killian's face- the water did magical things to the lines of his face when the sun set just so. After the light in the sky was replaced by a million smaller ones, they walked back to the house. Emma made sure Henry took a shower and got into bed safely before returning to Killian's side on the porch.

"Care to join me on a moonlit stroll, milady?" he asked with a smile. Emma returned it easily and nodded, standing while taking his hand in hers as they walked off the steps and onto the cool sand. They'd tried to do this every night for time to themselves, so Killian already knew just how far each of them was willing to wander away from Henry in the house. Once they neared their usual turnaround spot, Killian tugged on her hand to stop her. Emma smile up at him in wonder, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly before asking why he stopped. He hesitated, his eyes searching hers. Emma slipped her hands down to his chest then and realized his heart was hammering in his chest harder than it had been the first time they'd kissed.

"Killian, what's going on?" she asked, suddenly worried. If he was this worked up…

"Emma, I want to tell you a story, if you'll let me."

"Of course," she said, though she was utterly confused.

"When I was a boy, I lost sleep over the prospect of growing up. I desperately wanted to stay a child, to avoid the inevitable responsibilities of adulthood. Then, when I finally did grown up, I relished in my newfound freedom. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, and never thought twice about the consequences- Until Milah." He took a deep breath, taking her hand in his. "When I was with her, I realized so many things about myself, Emma. I realized being a 'grown up' meant falling in love deeper than you'd think possible. I learned what it felt like to have a part of you torn out…I saw a part of myself I never wanted to exist in the first place- a dark place in my heart where I thought I'd be alone forever. And for a while, I was. Until I met you…"He shook his head at the memory and Emma smiled, remembering their first time in the forest. "And you nearly drove me mad, Emma. I was so…caught up in the mystery of you that I began to forget about Milah. I started thinking about you when I went to bed instead of her; wondered if you were thinking about me too. And when we kissed that night…Gods, Emma I never knew happiness like that. I fell in love with everything about you, and before I knew it, I didn't hate _myself_ anymore. You began to fix all the things in me that Milah's death caused to be broken. My heart healed, and the light in my life returned. I've never been happier. And your boy- Henry is all I've ever wanted in a son, and when he called me Dad that day…" Emma felt her eyes brim with tears just as his did with the memory. "Emma, I love you so much. I'll never stop loving you- you _are_ my one true love. And I thank the Gods above every day of my life that you found me under the rubble. Emma, I've known it would come to this ever since our first kiss. I knew there was no going back. You know you have my whole heart, love. But I want it to be official. I want you. I want you every day of my life- I want to wake up next to you and see your smile. I want Henry to come in on Christmas morning. I want to fight with you, to make up, and everything in between. I want to grow old with you. I want to die with your face being the last thing I see. I love you. I love you. I love you." Emma was crying now, knowing exactly what he was doing. She was actually afraid her heart would stop working based on how fast it was pounding in her chest. When he smiled up at her and slipped down to his knee, never breaking eye contact, Emma let out a small laugh, covering her mouth in awe at her luck in finding this amazing man. "Emma Swan, will you-"

* * *

Emma woke with a long gasp, her body shooting straight up to a sitting position, her chest heaving with labored breath as she ran a hand through her hair shakily before her elbows hit her knees to cradle her head in her hands as she struggled to let go of the dream that felt so real.

"Emma?" he called out, his voice low and seductive, sleep still evident on the timbre. It did nothing to help Emma. She heard a shuffling and they weight on the bed to her left, a small creek sounding in the room, mixing with the sound of Emma's estranged breathing. "Emma," he said again in alarm, his hand reaching out to touch her knee over the covers. As much as she wanted to shrink away from his touch, she couldn't- the memory of his lips on hers, his voice telling her he loved her, Henry calling him Dad… She moved her hands slightly to look at him, her mouth shaped down and eyebrows low against her eyes as she came back to reality, back to him. She met his stare easily enough- his eyes were almost as bright as the moon outside it seemed. "It was just a dream, you're okay," he assured her. Emma's face broke out as if she was suppressing a sob, and she shook her head.

It wasn't just a dream. _Dreams_ don't just _feel_ like _that_.

The heat radiating off his hand and onto her knee seemed to draw her thoughts away from the dream once more, and she found herself wondering if it would feel that hot against her bare skin. _Focus, Emma. _"I'm fine, just a dream," she mumbled, more to herself than anything- she needed to believe it was _just_ a dream.

"Come here, lass," he said, clearly still worried as concern was written all over his face. His hand was now outstretched towards her, a silent offering. She looked at it, at his eyes, and back. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she gave in and moved over to him a little more before collapsing in his embrace. He pulled her close, her head against his shoulder, her legs resting against his, and her arms sliding around his waist to hold on as if her life depended on it. He kissed her head and whispered, "You're safe, I got you," before shifting so they were laying on the bed as opposed to sitting on it. Emma pulled her arm that had previously been behind him to tuck in between their sides to get more comfortable. She knew it was only a matter of time before she began crying- for one thing, she'd seen Henry; for another, she'd never felt so loved in her life, and it was _just_ a _dream_.

When the first of the tears slipped down her cheeks, he wiped them away with his thumb; but soon they came too fast, and Emma gave up on ridding her face of them. Instead she listened to his heart beat against her ear and grabbed a hold of some of his shirt's fabric in her hand on his chest. His fingers traced soft circles on her arms, his lips finding her hair every now and then, until finally, she calmed down. Emma could feel him starting to slip away, knowing he'd get up and return to the couch soon like the gentleman he had proved to be. When his arms loosened around her, she grabbed his shirt once more, not quite sure where her courage was coming from. "_Stay_," she whispered, wondering when her mind had decided _that_ was a good idea.

"Emma," he replied, hesitation on his voice.

"Please." She needed to feel him like this. She couldn't let go of that dream.

She just needed him.

As she waited for his reply, she listened to his heart slowly pick up pace. Thank God, she seemed to be getting through to him. "I don't know if that's-" Emma cut him off by grabbing his right wrist in her hand and tugging it over her waist as she moved to lay on her side. She heard him sigh, and she knew she'd won. "Are you sure?" he murmured against her ear, his chest now pressed at her back, his hand finding hers and entangling their fingers. Emma let her eyes slip closed as he washed over her senses, just as he had in the dream.

"We were together," she stated abruptly.

"Hmm?"

"In my dream," she clarified. She wasn't sure why she was telling him, but she did feel like she owed him an explanation. She quite liked this position, she decided- his warmth radiated off and onto her, and she could feel his chest lift against her body as he realized what she meant. Emma casually wondered when she'd become fluent in reading his body language…

"And by together…" Of course. Of course his mind would go there.

"We were on vacation…Henry was with us- he called…he called you dad," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her hair moved with his sigh, his breath tickling her neck and his head moving to rest even closer to it, his lips nearly on her skin. They were both silent for a few moments, the only sound was Killian's tense breathing, and Emma realized he wasn't going to respond. But she wanted a response.

"You were proposing." There. If that didn't get a response, she didn't know what would. The air left his lungs and danced across her skin, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding.

"On a beach?" he asked quietly. In that precise moment, Emma's heart stopped. She gripped his hand tighter without meaning to, and then her heart sped up to match Killian's.

"Yes," she said weakly. His forehead fell to her shoulder as he drew in a slow breath, Emma wondering how he'd known.

"Bloody hell, Emma- I've been having that same dream every fucking night since you came on this bloody ship," he told her.

Emma's world spun out from beneath her then, her heart beating so wildly in her chest that she was sure he could hear it. It didn't feel like just a dream. Maybe it wasn't, just a dream. Maybe it was something more. Maybe-

His lips cut all coherent thought from her mind as they skimmed along the bare skin of her shoulder, his warm breath leaving her breathless. When he reached the spot on her neck where her pulse was jumping, he laid a caste kiss on her skin, leaving her with anything but caste thoughts. "Emma," he mumbled against her neck, kissing it again. Emma let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, and when she couldn't fight it anymore, she turned to him. His arm lifted enough to let her face him, his eyes on hers. Their legs were intertwined under the blankets, her head still on his left arm. Emma lifted a tentative hand to his jaw, tracing the lines of his face and noting the way his eyes fluttered shut when her fingertips brushed along his lips. When he opened them again, her hand was toying with his hair gently, finally getting to feel just how soft it was. Remembering her dream, she moved her hand to his chest to feel his heart beat strong and fast. What if it was a memory, of something that hadn't happened yet? What if, this, right now, was that moment when he realized one day he'd be on one knee? What if this was when he kissed her?

"Killian," she whispered, testing it out- it seemed wrong to call him Hook after a dream like that. His eyes widened slightly, a smile hitting his lips for just a second, his eyes darting to her lips. He moved his hand to comb through her hair, and his eyes met hers, silently begging to hear his name again. "I don't know where we go from here…Killian," she said truthfully. He laughed lightly and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"We go wherever the hell we want, Emma. But we go _together_." With that, his lips came crashing down on hers, and for a second, Emma didn't know how to react. It only took a second though, and then her hand fisted up in his shirt as her lips moved gracefully with his. His arm reached around to pull her closer until Emma's arms between them touched them both. Killian traced his tongue along her lips, just like he had in the dream, and Emma let him deepen the kiss; at this point, she had no choice but give in to what she'd been fighting for what seemed like so long. He was here, and real, and hers and she didn't doubt that for a second. Emma's head went fuzzy when he traced his fingers down her side, and she found herself parting their lips to give her brain some oxygen. Their mangled breathes were hot and quick, their foreheads resting against each other's to offer support.

"Killian-"

"I don't…" he took a deep breath. "Damn it, Emma- I don't know how to go back after this, I…" Emma placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing his to look at her. A jolt of courage raced through her veins and she kissed him lightly, lingering just for a moment because nothing in her life had ever felt more right than when his lips were on hers.

"Well then it's a good thing I don't want to go back," she said, her voice completely breathless, causing him to smile a little. Their eyes met, and Emma knew, she just knew, that dream wasn't just a dream. It was so much more. It was a possible future. With him. She didn't know if it was just guiding her to this moment, or if it was really her future, _their_ future; but she didn't really care right now- she'd figure it out in time, she supposed.

She swiveled around once more so her back was against his chest again, and he kissed her neck before whispering, "You're bloody brilliant." Emma smiled and raised his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles. She felt happy. And she knew when she woke up she would be just as happy- the normal paranoia she felt around men was gone. She didn't even worry that she'd regret kissing him- she was confident that what had just happened was the start of something perfect, something magical. So for the second time that night, Emma drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Killian and the wonderful adventures that would come with loving Captain Hook.

* * *

**I would REALLY appreciate any and all reviews! They mean the world to me :) As always, thank you so much for reading!**


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